


A Collection of Messages in a Bottle

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: UsUk Oneshots [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred F. Jones - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - WWII, Alternate Universe - War, Arthur Kirkland - Freeform, Feliciano Vargas - Freeform, Francis Bonnefoy - Freeform, Ludwig Beilschmidt - Freeform, M/M, USUK - Freeform, gerita - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3181898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear So-and-So,</p><p>Francis has stopped writing. I suppose it’s just you and me now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Collection of Messages in a Bottle

**Transcriber's Note: Found on Cape Cod, MA.**

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _Francis has stopped writing. I suppose it’s just you and me now._
> 
> _Peter is becoming more and more rebellious to enlist, and what can I tell him? His home—at least what he insists is his home. I tell him he’s American; he cites his British accent—is in danger. All of his friends have already been shipped overseas, and he’s rearing to go. I found a bag packed. I wonder when he will leave, note on the kitchen counter._
> 
> _He’s all I have left now. Alfred would have called me sentimental._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Arthur Kirkland_

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _That bloody canary is back. I don’t see the point of releasing it if it just flies back and taps on my window. Peter says we should put it back in the cage, but I don’t see the point. I never spoke to it; must be terribly lonely with no one to talk to. That’s the singing I wake up to now, unfortunately. _
> 
> _Francis claims everything is right as rain. Meanwhile, the news reports say differently. His letters have gotten shorter, and the paper is of awful quality. Alfred used to “tell me straight,” through some connection or another. Now, it’s all guesswork._
> 
> _Always and forever yours,_
> 
> _Arthur Kirkland_

> _Dear So-And-So,_
> 
> _There was some rubbish about that Italian lad down the street. He and Alfred would talk quite frequently, I assume about me and Ludwig. I didn’t hear much of what happened—that was usually Alfred—but something about rumors of homosexual activities._
> 
> _You understand the comedy._
> 
> _First Ludwig shipped off to jail, now Feliciano a pariah. The poor boy is distraught!—his brother disappeared off to Spain, Ludwig gone._
> 
> _Peter has stopped giving him flowers when his friend teased him. Feliciano says he understands._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _A.K._

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _Alfred stopped writing._
> 
> _Arthur_

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _Peter’s gone, although the fool didn’t leave a note. Mother would have been proud but I know he’s going to get himself killed. That nice girl who he used to ride with asked if he was gone. She looked sorely disappointed and fairly angry._
> 
> _I hope he likes what he sees. I suppose he’ll be sent to the Pacific Theatre, as most of the recruits are. He probably won’t write._
> 
> _He always thought too much with his heart. They're all leaving, listening to that blasted organ._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Arthur Kirkland_

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _Feliciano and his friend brought over flowers. The only ones in the whole neighborhood to notice what was right under their noses. I made them tea and Feliciano talked too cheerfully about the canary in the corner of the room._
> 
> _Ludwig said he was sorry when they left._
> 
> _Feliciano brought over a pie the next day. It was good. Feliciano can be quite good at conversation when he needs to be. It was mainly about silly things—about work, the mail—but it helped immensely._
> 
> _He invited me to one of “those” clubs, where I had met Alfred. I politely declined._
> 
> _Sitting here, writing this, perhaps I should have gone._
> 
> _Yours, alone,_
> 
> _Arthur Kirkland_

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _Finally, Peter wrote to me, stationed in Hawaii, of all places. At least it’s somewhere relatively safe. I showed the letter to his girl friend, and to my surprise, found she had received one from him, as well. I would have never dreamed he had the patience to sit down and write one letter, let alone two._
> 
> _I’ve let the canary back it. It’s better than the silence. I can’t bear to play the radio, so the canary keeps me company. Such a sorry little thing; I wish it would fly away. A bird trapped in-doors doesn’t seem right. I can’t even begin to wonder how I take care of it._
> 
> _It was Alfred’s, for Pete’s Sake._
> 
> _Yours, exasperated,_
> 
> _Arthur Kirkland_

> _Dear So-and-So,_
> 
> _I can’t even go near Alfred’s room. I tried, once, but it’s_
> 
> _I’ve locked the door, so Peter can’t go poking around where he shouldn’t._
> 
> _Bloody fool. And now I have this damned canary I don’t know what to do with. He’ll return it to his place when he gets back. What a fool. Now it’s here, singing, and it doesn’t even have anyone to sing back to it._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Arthur_

**Author's Note:**

> Yay sad Arthur.


End file.
